


lately I've been laying lonely

by sarenraes



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, a whole lotta cats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:00:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25563973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarenraes/pseuds/sarenraes
Summary: sofie bikes fosters a kitten
Comments: 5
Kudos: 35





	lately I've been laying lonely

She’s not sure how it got up here, to the fire escape landing outside her apartment in the monastery, hundreds of feet above the streets of Staten Island. She nearly misses it as she goes about her evening, preparing dinner in a skillet on the stove, listening to the evening news in the background. The newscaster mentions the closing of Midsummer’s Night, an inevitability after Misty’s replacement was unable to match her prowess, coupled with the fact that, try as they might, they couldn't replicate what happened on stage the night it opened. Sofia can only smile to herself, knowing that she’ll get a call later on from Rowan, who will bemoan about missing Broadway, while reassuring that she still loves the feeling of being a shiny new talent ripe for discovery. 

She freezes when she sees two large green eyes peering in from the window. Its black fur mixes with the night, a short triangle shaped tail sticking straight into the air. It seems to notice that it’s gotten her attention, and it meows loudly for such a little thing, before pawing at the window, like it believes it lives here.

Sofia forces the window open, a burst of cold air hitting her in the face, and it hops in. All she can do is stare as it starts to explore, wandering sure-footedly. She scoops it up before it tries to disappear behind a trash can, and it’s small enough to sit there, cupped in her hands. It stares up at her with inquisitive eyes, almost as if it’s asking why she interrupted its adventure.

The door to her apartment opens, and her mother’s voice fills the air. “Jeeze, Sof, I know the monastery’s all about hard work but would it kill ya to put an elevator in?” 

All Sofia can do is laugh, turning around to greet her mother, the kitten still sitting in her hands. 

Her mother raises her eyebrows, “Really, Sof? You shouldn’t impulse adopt, animals are a lot of work and they require preparation. This is why we never got a dog when you and your brothers were kids, I knew we’d end up with a menagerie the minute—”

“No, mom, it just showed up outside the window.” Sofia interrupts before her mother gets any further into it.

“The window?” Her mother repeats, glancing over to the window by the kitchen. Then Sofia watches as her eyes drift even further. “I think your dinner is burning, honey.”

She whips her head around, scurrying over to the kitchen and moving the skillet off the heat while holding the kitten in her free hand. 

“Look what you’ve done,” She says jokingly to the kitten, who just stares back calmly at her, slowly closing its eyes in contentment, even as she holds it aloft. She’s not sure if this means that she has a cat. Still, she steadfastly refuses to become a cat lady, even though she is admittedly, a follower of a cat. She isn't about to become a walking stereotype, no thank you. 

She and her mother sit on the couch, eating their dinner, which is tough, yet still edible. The kitten sits in her lap, pulling itself into a little loaf as it purrs. She snaps a picture and sends it to the group chat with the rest of the dream team. 

Immediately she gets a selfie back from Ricky, with him and Esther covered in sweat in some gym somewhere. He’s giving the camera a thumbs up, a large smile plastered on his face, his biceps centered in frame. Esther is behind him, her face stuck mid sentence as she presumably tells him off. 

Sofia leans over to show her mother the picture, who laughs and says, “Oh, Mr. March! What a hunk. You know I saw a picture of him going around Facebook the other day.”

Rowan Berry: _Adorable!_

Pete: _OMG. WHATS THEIR NAME._

Kingston just sends the gif of when Kristen Bell was presented with a sloth on the Ellen Show. 

Sofia has to assure them that she absolutely does not have a cat, and that she’ll be taking it to the local shelter in the morning. Though the rest of them just reply with varying amounts of scepticism, before the conversation shifts. 

Before she goes to sleep, she sets up some water and a canned tuna for her little friend, along with a box with some newspaper. She was going keep the kitten contained in the bathroom, but the minute she closes the door it starts meowing and sticking its paw under the door. By the time she falls asleep it’s crawled under the covers and curled up against her body. When she wakes up the next morning, its still there, chirping in indignation when Sofia throws the covers off the two of them. 

It follows her around as she prepares its breakfast, falling underfoot in an attempt to not be left alone. Sofia can understand that. She watches it as it scarfs down the tuna, and she has to ask herself it she should even be feeding it that. The kitten seems happy, regardless. 

She doesn’t have a cat carrier, so she pokes some holes in a box and her and the kitten go to the animal shelter down the street. The volunteer smiles when the kitten pokes its head out of the box, before trying to clamber out of the box and onto the counter. She seems to notice the hesitation on Sofia’s face as she starts to fill out the intake paperwork.

“You know, we have a foster program.”

When Sofia gets home that afternoon, she’s got arms full of food, supplies, and a new carrier balanced on top with a black kitten inside. A girl, apparently, and five weeks old. She sets the plastic carrier on the ground and opens the door. The kitten bounds out, and immediately returns to exploring the apartment. 

“Maybe I could start training cats too.” She says to the kitten, who she’s just been calling Kitty, “We would have to arrange it so that they’re not there at the same time as the rats. I think it’s doable.” 

Kitty appears out from under the couch, batting at the fringe of the rug, her razor sharp nails getting tangled in the threads. Sofia reaches forward to free Kitty’s paw, but Kitty just attacks her hand instead.

Sofia recoils her hand, “Okay, you’ve got spunk, kid. You’ll make a great monk.”

She can’t help but watch Kitty for the rest of the night as she makes her way around every inch of her home. She wishes Dale were here, she knows he’d be doing the exact same thing, sitting on the couch and not taking his eyes off the little ball of fur. They had talked about getting a pet one day. It was always ‘one day’ and ‘in the future’. If only she had known. She wishes they had walked down to the shelter one day and just done it. 

Once again, when she climbs into bed that night, Kitty is there too, worming her way under the covers to sleep against her. Eventually Kitty learns when her alarm goes off, and decides to wake her up five minutes earlier by walking across her face, before bounding off to the bowl to wait for Sofia to fill it.

They find a nice routine together, and Sofia does her best to instill the teachings of the Concrete Fist into a kitten that is more preoccupied with pawing at the moth against the window. However, when the shelter calls and tells her that there’s a couple looking to adopt Kitty, she knows their time together is up. 

“Listen,” She says holding Kitty up to face her, before she puts her in her new carrier, “You have to be good for your new family, they’re good people.” 

Kitty looks back at her, giving her a slow blink, and she likes to think that she got the message. 

When Sofia gets into bed that night, it takes her a second to realize that there isn’t going to be anyone joining her. She looks up through teary eyes, the lights from the street below streaking across the ceiling. For once, she misses her old home, and the bed she used to share with Dale, and the paintings they collected from farmers markets that hung on the wall, and the ceiling fan that would spin randomly in the middle of the night that Dale swore was haunted.

It’s three days later when she’s walking home, resisting the urge to take refuge in a bar. Her hands are stuffed in her coat pockets, the cold air biting at her cheeks, and she’s thinking about calling Wally to check up on him, when she hears a quiet meow. Her eyes travel to an alleyway between apartment buildings, and she feels a pull. It takes her a couple minutes of searching, but she emerges with a tiny kitten, brown and speckled, it’s ears still flat against its tiny head. It looks emancipated and flea ridden as it squirms in her hand. She holds it under her coat to keep it warm, as she pulls out her phone to call the emergency vet and let them know she’s coming.

Eventually, saying goodbye becomes easier. La Grande Gata never seems to give her time to rest, sending kittens one after the other. Her bed is usually filled with a little cat curled up against her, purring quietly as she falls asleep. She starts putting food out on the fire escape for the strays who want to remain that way, despite her managing to rope a couple into getting domesticated. Once and a while she’ll get updates from families, with pictures of teenage cats curled up against their people. Ricky falls in love with a little black and white cat, who he takes home with him. Rowan adopts a long haired white cat with a smushed face after Sofia sends her a picture of him stretched out in a sun beam. One day Pete brings her an orange tabby that he found trying to break into the book store, but ends up leaving with it and a baggy full of cat food.

It isn’t until she watches a grey striped kitten chase after the heels of a doe, that she considers having a cat of her own. 

**Author's Note:**

> you can find my twitter / tumblr at siennas.carrd.co


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